Small Dreams

One dream at a time, one light burning deep inside

One hope that refuses to die and one shoulder to cry

These are the small things that keep me moving forward

How often do we share, our smiles or our tears

Life is so small, to live in our fears

I never asked for much, and look at what I have

Millions of moments to smile, cry and laugh with my dears

You will find your answers, maybe not now, perhaps not ever

How does it matter?

You still have your questions to tickle your mind

To make you smile, to make you cry

to live your life.


Silence so deep, it echos through my soul

Silence so dark, it blinds me more

I wish it would stop, I wish it would go

I wish to break it, but how can I so

I smile, I laugh, all seems fine

Inside I cry for no reason or ryhme

Gone are the days when the moon would smile

Now the wind is cold and the nights are blind

The past was beautiful, the future remains unknown

Yester memories keep me smiling whenever I am lone

A warm hug, a bad joke, a stupid advice

How they all changed my life!

So much to remember, so much to try

Then why do I still feel like cry

I am blessed to have, if nothing else,

the memories of the past to help me smile.

Listen to Yourself

When you are trying to improve your public speaking skills, you are often taught to stand in front of the mirror and talk to yourself. Some trainers even go to the extent of recording your presentation and replaying it back to you so you can see where you need to improve. Obviously, when you know you are being recorded, you try to look perfect, act perfect and talk perfect. Does such recording really help? All it can tell you is, how good you are at imitating perfection. But it can never tell how good you really are.

I experienced something similar recently, that helped me discover a little more about myself. We were out for a long drive, my husband and I deep in conversation and our daughter playing with my smart phone in the back seat. The conversations drifted to life, love and everything else in between.  Oblivious to all the conversations, my daughter started video recording the road outside and in the process ended up recording our conversation. And oblivious to the fact that we were being recorded, we continued our conversations. 

I chanced upon the recording in my phone, and was curious to see the road from the eyes of my camera. While I saw the road, I heard the conversations in the background. Hearing the conversations retrospectively, I got a much deeper glimpse of myself. Honestly, I wasn’t really happy, at what I heard. I heard my own thought process, expression, attitude, approach on life in a short span of 10 minutes. For a minute, I thought “Wow, is this how I really talk??”. It was like being suddenly forced to look into a mirror and see yourself naked without any clothes to cover the bulges or any lights/shadows to hide the ugly spots. 

Yes, I discovered what I needed to improve. But more importantly,  I developed an immense sense of appreciation for people around me, who have patiently heard me blaberring for eternity. I am amazed at how you could have endured this eternity with me. My heart goes out to all of you and of course my dear husband, who has been there all along seeing me as I saw myself today and still telling me how beautiful I am. Love you!

Mama hold my hand

It just seems like yesterday, when I used to reach out to hold my daughters hand the minute we stepped on the road, in a busy shop or just out for a walk. My motherly instincts guided me to keep her safe, always at an arms distance from me.

As she and I both grew older, the need to hold her hand slowly became less. The minute we would step out of the car, she would bound off, free from the confines of the car, ready to explore the world around her. The air tangling her curls even more, she would run on roads, play with dogs and pluck flowers from who-so-evers garden was unlucky to be in her path.

Then a day came, when I exhausted from a long journey, my back aching, my knees shaky, stepped out of the car. As I closed the door behind me, I took a moment to steady myself resting on the door just a little longer. Of course, my daughter was already 50 meters out on the road before I had even got one foot out of the car. I smiled as I heard her chatter, trying to make out what new stories she had come up with. 

Suddenly she stopped, mid-sentence, as if realizing something was missing. She rushed back to me, held out her hand and said “Mama hold my hand”. She gripped my hand in hers – strong, purposeful, as if to support me. The world stopped, my heart melted and tears welled up in my eyes. How could she, barely seven years old, lost in her own fairy land, sense my pain, when I hadn’t even said anything? 

Looking back, I wonder, she would never have been able to catch me if I fell.  But then her gesture and her hand under mine, was so reassuring that it gave me the strength and the confidence to walk the distance. The moment etched in my heart, I feel blessed to be her mother. I can’t say that she will be there to hold my hand throughout my life, but I am sure, that I will remember this moment and the fact that she came back for me, throughout my life.